As the morning light barely covered the green tiles of the general's mansion, the squeaking sound of wheel wheels rolling on the ground could be heard from the front yard.
Liu Zhong, the accountant, hunched over, rubbed his temples as he gazed at the ten carts covered with straw mats outside the warehouse. Instead of golden grains, what leaked from the cracks in the mats were gravel mixed with brown mud, and occasionally a black bean, still clinging to a piece of straw, rolled out.
"Miss Chuntao," Liu Zhong rubbed his dry fingers and glanced towards Shen Weiwan's courtyard, "Is this... is this really the ten carts of grain that the eldest lady wanted?"
Chuntao crossed her arms, a look of "What do you know?" on her face. "Mr. Liu, my young lady said that when we go to Hanshan Temple to pray for my wife, we must use the most 'real' grains. Look at this stone, how round it is; this mud, how fertile; this husk, how festive!"
Liu Zhong's mouth twitched. He'd been summoned to the warehouse this morning, told that the eldest daughter had requested ten cartloads of grain, specifically "with mud and stones, the more the better." He ran to ask Liu, who was applying her hairpins in front of a bronze mirror. Her hand trembled at the words, and her rouge went askew on one side of her face.
"Ten carts?" Liu's voice was shrill. "She thought it was feeding pigs!"
But remembering what happened when Shen Weiwan caught her in the Zen room at Hanshan Temple, Liu felt uneasy. That damn girl was as cunning as a fox now. If she didn't agree, who knows what kind of trouble she would cause. She gritted her teeth and waved her hand: "Give it to her! Let her toss!"
At this moment, Liu Zhong looked at the ten carts of "grain" and felt his temples throbbing. These were not grains at all, they were clearly dirt pulled from a mass grave!
"What are you still standing there for?" Chuntao said, her hands on her hips. "Hurry up and tell the driver to drive to Hanshan Temple. My young lady is waiting for you!"
Liu Zhong sighed deeply, turned around and called to the driver. The convoy swayed out of the general's mansion, attracting the passing vendors to crane their necks to look.
"Hey, why is there so much mud in this general's mansion?"
"Hush, keep your voice down. I heard that the young lady is going to Hanshan Temple to pray for blessings. This is an offering to the Buddha!"
"Tribute? Even the Bodhisattva would tremble at the sight of it!"
The laughter drifted away on the wind. Liu was sitting in her yard, listening to the servant's report. She was so angry that she smashed the teacup in her hand to the ground.
"Waste! A bunch of waste!" She pointed at the butler's nose, "Can't you stop them? Letting her act like this is bringing shame to the General's Mansion!"
The housekeeper shrank his neck and said, "Madam, the eldest lady said that this is the rule for praying for the old lady. Anyone who dares to stop it is disrespectful to the old lady..."
Liu Shi held her breath in her chest, unable to breathe. How could she not know that Shen Weiwan was doing this on purpose? But that damn girl always used "filial piety" as an excuse, and she had no way to refute it!
"Go!" Liu took a deep breath and suppressed her anger. "Prepare the car. I'll go to Hanshan Temple myself to see what she's up to!"
In front of the gate of Hanshan Temple, more than a dozen monks surrounded the ten carts, all with solemn expressions.
Abbot Huiming, who was in the lead, twirled his Buddhist beads and watched the driver lift up the straw mat, revealing the black and yellow "grains" underneath. He couldn't help coughing twice.
"Amitabha..." The abbot looked at the half-broken tile lying among the stones. "Miss Shen, what's going on...?"
Shen Weiwan, wearing a plain skirt, jumped out of the carriage, holding an oil-paper bag in her hand.
"Master Abbot!" She smiled, her eyes curved like a little fox that had stolen a chicken. "I brought some goodies for the Buddha!"
As she spoke, she lifted a straw mat and pointed to the rice husks mixed with cow dung inside: "Look at these grains, but I asked my aunt to prepare them specially, saying that this way it shows sincerity!"
The young novice monk next to him couldn't help but burst out laughing. Abbot Huiming glared at him and he quickly lowered his head.
"Young lady, you are very thoughtful..." the abbot said stiffly, "but these grains... seem a little special."
"Great, isn't it?" Chen Weiwan clapped her hands and said, "I knew the Bodhisattva would like it! By the way, Abbot, when we pray later, can you let me scatter these grains in front of the hall? My mother said that this can wash away all the bad luck!"
Abbot Huiming felt his scalp tingle as he looked at the ten carts of "bad luck." Scattered in front of the main hall? He was afraid that if the Bodhisattva truly appeared, he'd be the first one to be struck down!
"Well... young lady," the abbot pondered, "temples have their own rules for praying. These grains... should be placed in the backyard for now. I'll have someone clean them up."
"Clean it?" Chen Weiwan blinked, looking innocent. "Why should I clean it? It's all filled with sincerity! Auntie said that rubbing it can remove bad luck. Bodhisattva must also like to use this to 'wash hands'!"
"Puff——" The little monk couldn't help himself again.
Abbot Huiming sighed helplessly. He had lived for sixty years and had seen people donate incense money to the temple, and had seen people donate land, but he had never seen anyone send ten carts of mud and stones to the Bodhisattva!
At that moment, Liu's carriage also arrived. When she got off the carriage and saw the ten carts of "grain", her face instantly turned pale.
"Chen Weiwan!" Liu pointed at the pile of mud, her voice trembling. "Look at what you've done! Is this the five grains you were talking about? Are you trying to make a fool of yourself in front of the Buddha?"
Shen Weiwan immediately put away her smile and pursed her lips in grievance: "Aunt, am I not praying for my mother? Didn't you say that sincerity is the key to success? I see how real these grains are, they are much more sincere than those clean grains..."
As she spoke, her eyes turned red: "Auntie, do you feel bad for me spending money? But this is for my mother... wuwuwu..."
The surrounding monks and coachmen all looked over. Liu was humiliated by her crying, angry and anxious, but she couldn't vent her anger.
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